


Tales of a Mercenary

by Legion2000



Category: Metro 2033 & Related Fandoms
Genre: 2033, Action, Action/Adventure, Apocalypse, General, Ghosts, Guns, Hansa, Horror, Metro 2033 - Freeform, Metro Games, Moscow, Multiple Plots, Mutant, Mutants, Post apocalyptic Russia, Post-Nuclear War, Russia, Supernatural - Freeform, Violence, general story, genfic, mercenary, no ships, post apocalyptic, red line
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25671724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legion2000/pseuds/Legion2000
Summary: Michail is a Mercenary taking the deadliest jobs across the whole Metro. From wars to scavenging missions on the surface. But will he become a legend among the stations or will he become another of the Metro’s victims?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**RATED T FOR VIOLENCE, THREAT, (CENSORED) SWEARING AND SEX REFERENCES**

**DISCLAIMER; I DO NOT OWN THE METRO FRANCHISE. THE GAMES ARE OWNED BY 4A GAMES AND THE BOOKS ARE WRITTEN BY DIMITRY GLUKHOVSKY. PLUS I DO NOT HAVE MUCH KNOWLEDGE OF THE MOSCOW METRO TUNNEL BESIDES THE MAP SO THERE MAY BE SOME INACCURACIES.**

* * *

Michail tread through the dead city's frozen surface. He always watched his step, slowly creeping around the ruins of old. The mercenary was only armed with his trusty AK and a short revolver on his side, protected also by some modified heavy armour.

The irradiated surface was always a challenge to any man no matter how skilled in combat or survival they were. Many never return from their exhibition, those who do often cling to the underground prison they call home.

 _"Michail! Michail are you there?!"_ A voice on the radio called. It was the mercenary's friend, Sacha, who was responsible for keeping contact with him whenever on the surface or perhaps taking a short separate job, the man never had the guts to go outside. Other times he goes on him with missions if based in the metro.

He sighed, "What do you want Sacha? Perhaps you've forgotten that I'm on the surface where mutants infest."

 _"I'm sorry. The commander wants to know if you have those supplies yet,"_ Michail didn't like taking jobs from Hansa. But nevertheless they paid good money for such jobs, this time he was coming back from getting petrol and whatever was mechanical.

The mercenary entered a 3 story building that seemed like it was about to collapse. "I'm arriving back to Tulskaya station, and I have the supplies too. Tell the commander he owes me double for that job, I almost got f*cking killed back there."

There was a small silence, during that time Michail already moved through the building and onto the lifeless street. Barren cars were scattered everywhere filled with , it was perfect for cover. The entrance to Tulskaya station was only a kilometre or two away.

As he moved through the cars he decided to scavenge some things, anything he did he put in his backpack. Books, car parts, anything useful that wasn't atomised by the explosion.

Sacha came back onto the radio, _"The commander says he'll pay you a half more bullets but no more raises."_

He sighed, "Fine. Michail out, I'll contact you when I'm near the station."

The mercenary decided to stop searching the dead vehicles. As it was almost the hour when watchmen and demons scour this area. He moved quickly to the furthest building nearest to the route to the station. This one was around 6 stories tall. The mercenary assumed it was an office building as there were computer carcasses everywhere.

But what it once was no longer matters, the only thing that does is the structure and what you can make of it. He came across a small camp, a tattered sleeping bag, a campfire and some bones.

Michail didn't care much, one man's death is another man's treasure in this new world. He was fortunate enough to find some clips for his AK. "My lucky day," he said to himself.

This type of ammo was not common on the surface unless you go to a military sight. But the only ones were on the outskirts of the city, no man has ever left the metro or even Moscow itself. No man has done that in 20 years.

There was a back door to the building, he slowly crept towards it aiming carefully with his rifle. Emerging from the building, he looked on all sides for any threat.

It was peculiar, there didn't seem to be any sign of any watchmen or any other mutants in general. Just the small mutated critters. It was quiet, just the sound of the irradiated wind could be heard.

"Oh ho ho. Seems it really is my lucky day. Or probably my lucky afternoon," he said. The entrance to Tulskaya wasn't far. There was a metro entrance just around the corner past a crashed plane.

The mercenary rushed through the streets of what was once a row of shops and other services. There was no point in scavenging for food, they would've already been looted or no longer edible.

Michail thought twice before turning a corner, peeking round there was yet another road, the back half of a plane blocked it with building rubble preventing anything from going around it. This wasn't a well known route for those who scavenge the surface, and those who did know it didn't care much for it.

"Can't go around it, can't go under it, can't go above it I have to go through it," said the mercenary, he sometimes told himself old nursery rhymes to help himself think or to just keep his sanity, it was almost impossible to control it in times like these.

He cautiously continued on to the crashed half plane, there was a door on the plane almost sealed shut with rust.

Michail attempted to open it with all his strength. "Come on. Open up you piece of... gah!" He failed, the door still stayed in one place.

Michail tried to think of a way through. He looked back at the lifeless street making sure there were no mutants, he concluded there were none. He aimed his revolver at the lock of the door.

Bang! Bang!

The shots loosened the door mostly unsealing it. He used all his strength to rip the door off it at least make it open, he grunted as he did it.

"Finally," he told himself succeeding in his actions.

All of a sudden, there were loud howls coming from the destroyed buildings behind him. The watchmen heard the gunfire, awakening from their slumber.

Michail quietly cursed. He pulled open the aeroplane door open more. He looked once more behind him, as a large pack of watchmen started to pounce towards the plane. Once he went inside he shut the door and blocked it with one of the broken chairs.

"Son of a-" The mercenary ran to the door on the other side of the plane. His luck may have already ran out. For it was sealed as well. "Not again!"

A dozen watchmen pounced onto the side of the plane. Some trying to get through the cramped broken windows and others foolishly trying to rip the metal off the plane.

He once again took out his revolver seeing if what he did last time still worked for this door.

Bang! Bang!

The door still did not loosen, he tried it again.

Bang!

Still no progress.

He grabbed his AK, deciding to not go down without a fight. Aiming at the mutants, he pulled the trigger taking at least 4 or 6 down. But the sound of the gunfire only attracted more mutants.

It really wasn't his day, it was unknown if he would get out alive.

Using both his guns, he was able to take a couple more down. Mutant blood was spilled all over the side of the plane with some oozing inside. But no matter how many he killed, or how many bullets he wasted, they just never stopped coming.

Instantaneously, the freaks all ran off. Michail did not have the slightest idea what it was. Nevertheless he breathed a sigh of relief.

But his nerves were no longer calm. The day got even more intense.

There was a loud explosion. An explosion Michail or perhaps no other had not heard in 20 years.

A nuclear explosion.

The mercenary rushed to open the other door, he already survived one nuclear apocalypse he wasn't going to die in another.

The door was open, he ripped straight through it and ran to the nearest manhole into the revolting sewers in fear of getting affected by the incoming shockwave. His heart rapidly pounded.

Michail contacted Sacha, "Sacha! You mind telling me what the hell was that?!"

 _"Michail? Oh thank God you're fine! I was worried when I heard that explosion, sounded like it came from miles up north, I'm guessing near the botanical gardens,"_ Sacha said, he was a demolitions expert construction worker before the war and had much experience in maths and physics. He was a man who belonged in Polis where all the experts like him lived, at least that's what everyone says about him.

Botanical gardens? The mercenary was confused, who would decide to bomb that place?

"Whatever you say smartass." Michail looked at the tunnel around him, analysing the structure. He knew the tunnels of the Metro like the back of his hand from before the war, "Listen, I'm going to be a while. I just got into the sewers, seems like I'm near Nagornaya judging by these tunnels."

 _"Nagornaya? That far out, huh? The way back shouldn't be a problem since it's abandoned and there's no reports of mutants. So you're fine,"_ he assured.

Michail took it as bullsh*t, with everything he's been through today there was no end to this nightmare. Last time he was in an empty region it turned out to be a nest of freaks, and he's in the metro inside a row of abandoned and unexplored stations with God knows what lurking through those tunnels.

"Are you sure there's nothing here? There has to be something in this hellhole, Sacha. Has anybody actually explored these stations?"

 _"Well there was just one guy who went beyond Tulskaya. It's said he saw no creature at all, not even a rat. Weird right? Anyways, the rest of the story are just ghosts 'n sh*t. So you should be fine,"_ Michail calmed a bit, but there was a slight chance of actual ghosts in the metro. Rumours all over the stations talk about sightings of strange silhouettes killing people or whatever the hell.

He moved on into the main station, hopefully the stories weren't true. Hopefully he could just get back to Tulskaya and have some mushroom tea.

But this was the metro.

A prison of many horrors.


	2. Chapter 2

Michail continued to move through the revolting sewers, thank God he wore a gas mask, he wasn't far from Nagornaya station either. All he had on his mind was just getting back to Tulskaya.

As he tread through he realised something, there wasn't any sort of being in these tunnels, not even a putrid rat. Only things he could hear were the dripping water and his heavy armoured footsteps moving along the wet repulsing ground.

What Sacha reported earlier was true.

Only one question - Why?

He arrived at a sewer entrance, the structure of it seemed to be rusting apart. Easy to open. Michail grabbed the bars of the entrance and ripped it off like it was nothing jumping straight into the main station.

 _"Hey, I forgot to mention something about Nagornaya station,"_ radioed Sacha.

The mercenary rolled his eyes, with all the horrors he just went through everything just got worse for him. The only good thing he got out of those was his life, the only thing that's worth a damn in this world.

"What the hell is it?" He asked frustrated.

_"Well, it's filled with toxic gas, without it you'd hallucinate to death. Same goes for the tunnel to Nagtinskaya but the station itself is fine."_

This was instantly bad news, the mercenary just couldn't get a break, as he only had 3 filters left.

He sighed, "What else have you forgotten to tell me, Sacha?"

_"Nothing else_ _."_

Michail sighed again, "Got it." He then turned off contact for now.

He analysed his dark surroundings lit up from mutated mushrooms along with his flashlight, looked to be by one of the two main tracks, completely blocked by a small hill of rubble. The walls and floor on the platform were built from cracked marble with the tunnels and tracks a depressing steel, multiple square columns on the platform looked to be the only things that kept the whole ceiling up, gas from the air vents plagued the whole place too with skeletons with hard hats and dried blood were scattered all over the place. Construction machines and equipment were placed on the tracks and walls.

The station looked to have been under repairs before the bombs dropped. Some of the survivors must've left, and those who stayed must've killed each other, starved to death or suffered from the toxic gas coming out from the entrances.

The area looked mostly open besides small hills of rubbish everywhere, he assumed it should be quick and easy to get to the next station with hardly any obstacles.

Out of the blue (or perhaps the dark) there was a sound of a ringing telephone on the platform, there hadn't been a working telephone in the Metro for decades. Michail moved his focus jumped towards it.

The phone continued to ring.

"What the hell?" he muttered. The mercenary picked up the peculiar phone, "Umm, hello? Anyone there?"

There was no response, just the sound of low harsh breathing.

"Who the hell is this?"

They shortly responded, but the next thing he heard were multiple whispers muttering an unknown dialect but at the same time he heard the sound of a thousand damned souls crying out to him.

Michail was speechless, not knowing how to reply.

He decided to end the peculiar conversation there, "I'm sorry you have the wrong number!" He dumped the phone hanging from the wall unable to make out what happened, before the bombs these calls would be considered 'prank' calls. But here in the metro such things would be considered possibly supernatural.

Michail always considered those who believed or seen paranormal activities as mad or misguided. But he suspected to believe that there was some truth to them.

He decided to forget about this experience and moved onto the open track, quickly moving straight towards nagtinskaya.

Michail already dodged a bullet, had he stayed longer God knows what horrors he'd experience.

* * *

The mercenary tread easily among the gloomy tunnel's rough ground. He had already forgotten about the peculiar phone call, thinking it as nothing. Michail had seemed to have moved through the tunnel for at least 20 minutes. Along the way he noticed something, the station was really clean, not a single living soul inhabiting the place, not even a plant.

Michail only bothered to beam his light straight ahead. There was no sign of a light at the end of the tunnel. He kept his guard down for now since it would take him quite a while to reach his destination, and he was already bored.

He radioed Sacha, "So... anything happening at Tulskaya?"

There was no response, just the sound of static on the other side.

At the same moment, his flashlight instantly extinguished, succumbing to the endless darkness. Perhaps the bulb burst? He thought to himself regretting buying the light from that trader. Michail took out his lighter, it was less bright but helped him see nonetheless.

A strange inexplicable feeling suddenly came over him, each second passing only made the feeling more intense. He heard another sound, the sound of a train. It was unusual, it wasn't like the modified trains you hear the major factions use. It sounded was more pre-war, and it was close.

Michail turned around, what he saw absolutely frightened him. A couple of headlights as bright as day dashed straight towards him - it was the train.

He stepped straight off the rails, and the train just about missed him. The vehicle was unearthly however, from what he could see it was nothing but a living physical silhouette. He could see through the ghostly windows, more silhouettes inhabited inside living their lives as did before the war, an inhabitant resembling a small child peeked through the window, glaring at him with their shadowy innocent eyes.

It quickly passed by, perhaps the one who journeyed beyond Tulskaya wasn't mad after all.

Or perhaps his filter ran out and was hallucinating from the toxins plaguing the tunnel. He quickly exchanged filters and moved on thinking it was nothing, though the mercenary feared he was going mad.

After several minutes walking through the tunnel and skipping past empty side rooms he finally arrived at Nagatinskaya without any more paranormal activities, his flashlight soon turned automatically on, thank God!

He seemed to have arrived in yet another blocked tunnel, though this time there was the back of a train cart sticking out, instantly resembled the living silhouette

The whole structure was similar to the one at Nagornaya and this time it was additionally lit up by some glowing mushrooms growing on piles of rubble and skeletons scattered all over, the inhabitants must've also suffered the toxic gas that died out long ago. Only the columns were more circular rather than squared, structured from shattered koegla marble. The walls were faced also with marble but with a rich palette of red and black colours and art representing historical moments, along with the name of the station, at least what was left of them.

It wasn't totally silent however, he could hear a couple roaches and spiders skittering about the whole place, hinting that the air was mostly clear. but there weren't signs of any nosalises or any other freaks. He breathed a sigh of relief taking his gas mask off.

Michail was a bald middle aged man with a small stubble underneath his Roman nose along with eyes as green as his armour. It was just one more station and he could finally rest after a long nightmarish day. But before he went further however, he decided to scavenge for anything salvageable.

The mercenary jumped onto the platform as before. What he hoped to find were some pre-war treasures that could get him a good handful of bullets, perhaps more.

Flash!

Once again he saw multiple living silhouettes, this time they weren't people living their lives on a train, these were people on the verge of their death. Could these have been ghosts? Was he witnessing these people's final moments? He can't have gone insane from the toxins, he knew that environment too well.

The shadows resembled people coughing, some dying, others trying to help their children live despite their inevitable deaths. It was indeed a horrifying sight. Michail shockingly cursed under his breath, he wanted to help these people but how could he prevent something already done?

The mercenary almost touched one of them, but a voice in his head restrained him from doing so.

Flash!

Everything disappeared, the silhouettes, the suffering, all gone in a flash. Michail immediately was put off from scavenging the skeletons, in fear of disturbing the dead.

This wasn't something he would just forget about like the train or the phone. This was something that would haunt him for the rest of his days.

Michail immediately jumped onto the next track and continued hurriedly on the path to Tulskaya station.


	3. Chapter 3

**NOTE: I AM NOT PROMOTING ANYTHING POLITICAL IN THIS STORY NOR DO I HAVE A GRUDGE AGAINST CERTAIN RACES.**

* * *

More trudging of the rough metro grounds was all he had done for minutes on end, each second feeling a millennia. There hasn't been a single light that could be observed at the end of the tunnel. The radio hardly still worked, not even a blurt of static. All Michail could do now was continue to move forward, with his only company being his thoughts.

The ghosts he encountered at the last station continued to give him reminders of memories before the war, before the world was engulfed by a global Chernobyl. He was just a young soldier, on leave from fighting against the Ukrainian forces in Crimea.

But despite all that he respected member of society instead of the deadly mercenary everyone saw before them. It all went sideways once the bloody Arabs decided they could play with weapons of extinction.

That second when the alarms screamed towards those around them infected them all with the thought it was every man for themselves. All of Moscow reverted to the primitive belief of individualism. He could remember the look on people's faces just as he was running to the Metro, their entire lives had just shattered into pieces like the buildings of old.

The elderly died first, one would say they were the lucky ones as they lived a full life and didn't have to experience the horrific aftermath. Perhaps all who died were truly lucky, spared from the hell that had conquered the globe. The adults were given the task of supporting their children in a tougher world, who now no longer had the full life they were promised at birth.

Those who survived would have been speculated by the idiots who still have faith that they all have sinned and must suffer for it. Even after the bloody end of the world, humanity never learns. Damn the saying war never changes, it's mankind who will never change. And being bombed back to the stone age didn't help at all.

If he could, Michail would rather have gone back and died in the blast. Join the few ones he loved, that's if there was even an afterlife at all. The thought of it was truly conflicting. After seeing those in Nagtinskaya he started to suspect there was an afterlife after all, but instead of going to heaven as a good man or going o hell as a bad one he'd be forced to relive his final moments over and over again for all eternity.

This only meant one thing, it was better if he stayed alive. When those who believed death was the true way out of the metro they were wrong, you should always live your life to the fullest despite the pain you experience. It's a better deal than what comes after.

More steps had been taken in the past half hour, the mercenary was already distracted inside his thoughts. Tulskaya was not too far away. Just an extra kilometre and he was home free.

His mind started to shift about what happened after they fled underground. The military stationed there were forced to keep order, but unfortunately weren't good at it once ammunition supplies ran low. The civilians decided to break off and create their own factions from independent stations to outright catacomb empires.

With all the wars that continued, Michail thought it best to side with the ones that didn't radicalise the entire metro, like Hansa, the Arbat or 1905 Confederation and sometimes even the rangers. He found he had a lot in common with the Order, some of them did involve his military comrades from before the war.

But to his mind, the new currency was all that mattered if he were to survive. More money meant he could buy more equipment.

He escaped his memories and philosophy of the mind, as a light finally beamed upon him. "Who the hell are you?" The speaker questioned, "Oh well if it isn't that mercenary we hired. Your boyfriend has been worried sick."

Michail gave him the shish gesture, "He's my partner you homophobic pricks." Even in the apocalypse he still believed in equality, and that's almost hard to find in the Metro.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. I'll open the door for you."

The creaking of the steel door emerging followed on after that. The ear bleeding squeak of the contraption rubbing against the rusted rails disturbed him greatly as he tightly pressured his ears. Hansa certainly didn't care much It all resulted with the blinding light of Tulskaya station.

A commander in a sharply dressed uniform accompanied by a group of the Hansa spetsnaz met with him once Michail took a few steps inside the spacious station.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," said the commander.

"That's a funny way of saying hello to the man that went through f*cking purgatory," Michail harshly replied.

"I pay you to get the job done, not to complain about the danger. You've been up there many times to know how much of a hell it is."

"Now I understand why nobody has dared go down this tunnel line. I almost got dragged down to Hades himself. Once in nuclear fire, twice in black ectoplasm."

"Ectoplasm? Now I'm really thinking you thought you saw ghosts."

"Enough of this. Just take your f*cking supplies and I'll take my bullets," the mercenary stripped his backpack and shoved it to the commander's chest with no respect at all.

"Of course. Anything to not have you dive deeper into madness. Your partner's at the pub, he already knows you're here," the news of Michail's arrival was unusually quick even for Hansa's standards, "You'll get your payment later."

He didn't respond, and decided to move through the station. Tulskaya, or called by most as Tula, was the station Hansa decided to place the poor and lost souls. It was large and spacious, perfect to dump all the hobos you didn't want. Beggars and sick people could be seen in almost every corner with poorly built shacks structured as far as the station stretched.

First, Michail returned his heavy armour back to the Ring Line Military, exposing his green turtle neck jumper and padded black trousers. Next destination was the pub merely 20 metres from both entrances of Tula. It was an unhygienic place, a few drunks lying at the doorstep, rubbish spread all around and for some reason a dead body laid right in front of the bartender's table, with the bartender themself an educated person not caring a little about his customers.

Sacha sat at one of the tables drinking beer brewed from shrimp, he was around the same age as Michail with greying black hair and a goatee slowly growing. He seemed to be wearing a camouflage shirt and an old military helmet placed on the table. Sitting with him was another man equipped with a heavy shirpa lined jacket as well as combat trousers, including a balaclava wrapped over his head. No doubt he was from Polis.

"Michail! Glad you made it through the tunnels in one piece," Sacha congratulated, "You mind telling me what exactly happened in the line?"

"Nothing happened," Michail lied trying not to show his insanity, "Signal just got lost. Best not to go down to those stations. Who's he?" he pointed at the unknown individual.

"I am Tariq of the spartan rangers," he introduced with an unusual accent.

"Tariq?" He took note of the non-Russian name, "Let me guess, you're an Arab?"

"Tehran born and raised." Arabs down here were quite common in a couple stations, mainly in the Arbat Confederation. Most of them in Moscow had been wiped out in the nuclear fire as had other ethnic minorities. Those who remained either took refuge in friendly territories or suffered at the hands of the genocidal Fourth Reich.

"He wants to hire us for a mission of his," said Sacha.

"No. I am taking a break from all of this, last job almost got me killed."

"All jobs almost get you killed!"

"Last one was too close a call!"

"I'm not expecting you to accept this job instantly. I understand the fact that you're under a lot of stress, take as much rest as you want," the Ranger said.

The mercenary took a drink of beer that was just provided by one of the scruffy staff, the consumption calmed him down a bit, "What's the job?"

"I need some men to accompany me to Polis," he simply requested, "You'll be payed 600 bullets each. 200 now, the rest once we arrive."

"What exactly is your business in Polis?"

"That's Ranger business."

One of the Hansa soldiers arrived holding a small box, "Your payment." They placed it neatly on the table. Sacha opened it to find at least 400 bullets inside.

"What the hell?! This isn't even what we were offered!" Sacha angrily exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, this is all we have right now. Some asshole gambled all our money away up in Serpukhov," the soldier responded, "Unfortunately you won't be paid any further."

"Bullsh*t, you're just stalling so you don't pay us!"

"Hey I'm just doing my job. Go talk to the commander about it."

Michail decided not to take any more of the dickhead Ring Liner's comments. He decided to accept the job offered by the ranger, hoping he and his partner could at least make better money than the bloody ring line. The people of Polis were honest people, omly reason he hardly took any jobs from them was because they didn't have any work needed doing.

"Cheers to Polis then," Sacha raised a bottle. Tariq didn't raise one up. "Right, Muslims don't drink alcohol."

"I'm no longer Muslim," he said, "Left all that nonsense a year after the war. Only reason I'm not drinking is because of the mask."

"Then take it off! What, you hiding you're a woman or something?"

"I'm harshly scarred under here. An accident from a few years ago, I wear it because people can't bare to see my face."

"Whatever, tomorrow we leave this hellhole. And to the Swiss we go."

* * *

The railcar moved across the tracks the next day through the guarded tunnel. The trio of men armed themselves for the journey. Michail with his trusty AK, Sacha with his double barrel and Tariq equipped with a modified 'bastard gun'.

Among the travel, they chatted a bit. Mostly talking about events through the Metro such as the war between the Reds and the Nazis. Including the missile strike up above, still nobody knew what happened there. Though Tariq believed the Order was involved.

"You're saying the Order just suddenly got their hands on missiles and just decided to wipe out the botanical gardens," the mercenary said hardly believing a word of it. Even if that was true, what was the point of nuking an old public attraction?

"Who else would have the capability of such power? The reds focus too much on manpower, the nazis are basically pricks, Hansa has no interest," the Iranian explained.

"Polis does seem the probable ones, their rangers were once old military officials," Sacha added.

"Alright, enough Metro politics. If I'm going to be travelling with you I might as well know your stories."

"You first, just want to make sure you ain't a paedophile or anything like that."

"Fair enough. I'm from Tehran, Iran as you already know. I moved to Moscow when I was in my adolescent years which was unfortunately near the time the bombs fell. Spent my first few years as some measly scrapper boy before getting into the action when the first factions were formed. The ones I went with formed into the Rangers, that's all you needed to know," the Iranian explained. There weren't any comments on his origins, his story, as English speakers say, was legit.

It was the old construction worker's turn to speak, "I was a construction worker before the war in Petrograd. Moved to Moscow with the same job and then the bombs dropped. I met a nice girl and formed a family living up in Kiev. Met Michail over a decade ago and we formed a mercenary duo, I believed it was the best way to support my family."

"Believed? You talk in past tense, why?" Tariq asked. He was shown an intelligent being with a high perception in sight and in hearing.

"Jobs have been very stale these days, with the large war occurring and Hansa mostly giving out jobs. It's been a nightmare for us. And I can't seem to get any money back to Kiev because of all the diplomatic bullsh*t going on and courier services these days are too greedy," the old construction worker explained. He lit up a cigarette as they started to exit the guarded area of the tunnel.

Tariq cocked his gun, ready for any blasted nosalis to get the jump on the car. "Calm down," said Michail. Sacha passed him another cigarette, "This tunnel has all been cleared out, we're safe."

"Can't be too sure about that. Few weeks ago I entered a supposed 'empty' area as Polis claimed it to be. And guess what, it was all infected with webbing and spider sh*t."

The railcar driver spoke, "No these tunnels are pretty clean. We're between two Ring Line stations so we're a hundred percent safe."

The ranger lowered his automatic, "Alright. So, Michail. What's your story?"

"I was a soldier before the bombs. Fought in Crimea, Eastern Poland and Belarus. Once I got shot in the shin I was sent back home, when bombs dropped I ran to the Metro, no family or friends at that time so it was quite easy to let go. Blah blah blah, some sh*t happened and I became a mercenary. Met Sacha and you know the rest."

"Soldier huh? I'm surprised you haven't joined the Order. Got an awful lot of old military vets in there."

"Serving myself is what keeps me alive, I have independence, freedom. Blindly following orders just makes you a pawn in someone else's game, and this isn't any game. In the new world, survival is all that matters whatever the cost. Death is just the punishment that awaits us at the end of every life whether good or evil, deciding to go for it is not best when you know what awaits after death."

Everybody on the railcar, even the driver who normally doesn't care for his customer's business, assumed something unusual had recently happened to him. Or his views on the underground prison that is life are as strong as a bull. It did give them a bit of thought, it was better to enjoy what you have in the living than the cold afterlife that awaited everyone for atomised judgement.

"Alright, we're a kilometre away from Serpukhov. Should just be a little over half an hour," said the driver.

Under 40 long minutes passed by, the entire trio suffered openly from boredom. Doing nothing but smoke old cigarettes, drink shrimp beer and chat meaninglessly. Passing over a flooded tunnel they finally arrived at Serpukhov.

Dismounting from the car onto the platform, is was slightly cleaner than the filthy Tula, families and friends living peaceful lives inside with traders and merchants seen in almost every corner, locals of the entire line sometimes referred to this place as the Metro Shopping Centre. Perfect for resupplying on ammunition and other worthy needs such as filters, grenades and also some leather armour for any bandits or mutant urged to gut their throats.

Sacha nicely donated a few bullets to a hungry beggar, though Michail saw it as a waste of time. The homeless would've drowned their immortal sorrows in alcohol and whatever new world drugs had been created.

Tariq stood by the tracks, purchasing a ride to Dobrininskaya, except this time it was on larger connected railcars with more people. They were just about to leave within the hour so this was his last chance to do any business inside the station.

Purchasing a laser sight and a holographic scope for his automatic, Michail approached him, "You all ready?"

"Almost," the Iranian replied fitting his new toys onto the gun. "Alright, now I'm ready."

"I forgot to ask, why would a skilled man like you hire some mercenaries to escort you to the Capital of the Metro?" He asked, "What kind of job are we dealing with?"

"Suppose you have a right to know. I-" He was cut off when a revolver bullet hit the concrete wall, inciting a panic among the inhabitants.

"What the hell was that?!" Michail fiercely questioned.

"The entire reason I hired you!" Tariq responded as another projectile flew immediately passed him.

The projectile flew straight past his ear thankfully missing. They both took cover behind some barrels, "Who in God's worthless name wants to kill you?"

"Just do your job!" He fired a burst of blind fire at their unknown attacker/s. Michail looked straight over, the hostile seemed to be a masked individual wearing a tattered jacket and common clothing armed with a revolver. Whomever they were also took cover behind a stack of boxes.

Sacha thankfully moved near their position, firing 2 shells to their face blowing it off. Unfortunately cleansing their identity off the face of the Earth. "You guys alright?" He asked.

"We're fine," said Michail wiping some dust off his shoulder.

The station guards arrived aiming their guns at the group. Their leader questioned, "What the hell happened here?"

"This madman attacked us out of nowhere!" Sacha exclaimed pointing at the faceless corpse already infested with flies.

"Any reason why he attacked?"

"Not a clue," said Michail, "You really need to up your security in this place! We might've had our brains splattered across your walls!"

"I apologise for this," the leader promised a horrible event like this would never happen again. He highly doubted that, Hansa officials were always sly. At first glance the armed trio definitely did not look like Ring Line Natives to them. The security left them to be, obviously not giving a care.

"I believe it's time to tell us the reason for our job," the mercenary demanded.

Tariq grabbed a beer bottle, opened part of his balaclava revealing his rotting dark skin. Desperately taking a drink, his heart went as calm as a guru. "There's this organisation, cultists you might say, named the Lord's Purists. I've recently discovered of their existence, and now they want to silence me," he explained.

"What exactly do these cultists want?" Sacha asked loading 2 shells into his shotgun.

"I do not exactly know, but I do know they act in the shadows, controlling each faction in the Metro. I believe they are part of the reason why the Reds and Nazis are reliving a Stalingrad. The reason behind the many conflicts across the entire metro."

"I highly doubt that," said Sacha, "I've fought with Michail against the Reds since that war started. I've officially confirmed this was all about the Line deciding to 'spread the revolution'. This war's no different."

"Who do you think gave them the idea? Who influenced them? They control the entire Metro, those of authority are puppets of a larger plan. I do not know what their goal is, most likely a secret genocide, but whatever it is will mot likely decimate the moral and population of the catacombs we reside in. The only ones who can help us deal with this is the Order, they're the only ones who will listen and the only ones who haven't been affected," he took another drink of beer, "Come on. Our ride will be leaving here soon."

It was at that moment, the two mercenaries discovered they were dealing with something larger than just some simple escort job across half the Metro. They've been through wars and skirmishes across the tunnel prison, but nothing was as large as this.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might’ve flogged this up, hope you enjoy though

Dobryninskaya, mostly referred to as Dobryn, was a large beautiful station on the entire line. One of the main stations of the entire ring line with tens of hundreds moving through here each month to get to their needed stations. Its marble red and white walls of spectacular architecture was admired as they continued to fade and crack as time passed.

The main entrance was completely barred off from any common resident heading to the surface. Only STALKERS and other individuals were permitted much like half of the Metro.

The trio dismounted the railcar and moved towards the tracks. They didn't need to stop for anything, they supplied everything back in the station before. No point in purchasing more.

"What station after this?" Michail asked the Ranger.

"We move to Venice. There's an entrance to the surface there we can take. From there we can-"

Before he said anything else, Sacha cut him off, "Wait wait wait. Did you bloody say we're going to the surface?!"

"Relax, it's just a short walk to a Ranger outpost. Not like we're going to damn Volgograd!"

"No no no, I don't think you understand. I've not been to the surface in twenty years! Because I don't want to defecate when I'm being mauled by a watchman! Besides, for all we know it could be nothing but a desert now since those other nuclear warheads went off!"

"You'll be safe. Even if it was a desert up there I'm sure we'd all notice. Now where was I? Oh yes, we'll take a raft that can take us to the outpost. You'll know it when you see it, it's a huge church near a shopping centre."

"Why can't we just go through Polyanka?!"

"Polyanka is cursed, nobody goes there for good reason," said Michail, "Any other safer way could be infested with purists. Sacha, you've been my partner of a decade. I'm sure you'll be fine setting foot on the surface. Besides, you're forty-five, you'll be too old to do anything. We've fought in wars, seen many horrors, the surface is just all of that except with a larger space. Now grow a pair will you?"

His partner sighed, "You're right. Fine, we'll take the surface. BUT I'M NEVER GOING UP THERE AGAIN AFTER THIS."

"Whatever makes you move, mate," Tariq finished, "Come on. I don't want us staying in the open like this much longer."

As they arrived to the tracks, the railcars were declined for any use up this line since the raider incident a few months back as a guard explained. So moving by foot seemed like the most viable option. The steel gate opened up, forcing a few loiterers to move out the way. There they moved on into the dark tunnel, with only flashlights, some sparks of broken wiring and the dim LED lamps to guide the way. There was a reason why nobody went up this line, too long and too dark. And the raider incident made it a lot worse. That didn't stop the group though, jumping onto the tracks and into the piss-worthy catacomb.

* * *

Hours had passed since they entered the tunnel, and nothing of importance had happened besides Sacha going for a toilet break. The air was thick with salt and dust of a dead generation, even through a gas mask you couldn't escape the putrid scent of mankind's failure. Despite the threat level in the area being low so far, something about this tunnel always kept you on alert. Like at the last minute something will just pounce onto you, draining your life before it even flashed before your eyes.

During the time though, there was just a bit of chatter between them. Politics, family, friends, you name it, anything that quelled the boredom that infected the experience of walking through a long dark tunnel.

But it was all about to end once a shriek was heard not too far up the line. Sounded like a woman's, maybe a child's? Whomever it was, they needed help. They ran towards the source of the screams. Not hesitating to stop. Their guns were cocked and their triggers were a millimetre away from being pulled.

"Take cover," Tariq whispered as he darted behind a couple of steel barrels. The other two followed his example shortly after.

Michal peeked over at the situation. Their current location seemed to be at the bondage of the four tunnel lines, straight ahead would've lead you to Polyanka, on the right led to Venice with the left leading to Oktabr'skaya. But in the centre of the binding was a small gang of raiders standing over a mess of corpses, men, women, children, didn't matter who the hell they were none were left alive. Except for one.

A young blonde woman in overalls knelt crying over a small body, recently executed. Must've been a relative or someone else close. The woman herself seemed to have been in her late teens or early twenties, hard to tell from their location.

The Ranger gestured not to engage, and to wait for a better time.

"Shouldn't have fought back," one of the raiders said, "Take a good look around you. We've slaughtered everybody here, even your little sh*t of a brother. Now unless you want to join them I'd advise you stay in your place. Understand?"

"You're a monster!" She cried.

"Live long enough and you'll eventually see there's a monster in all of us. Prying to get out of its cage, like a starved lion. Oh why am I saying this to a brat like you? Probably don't even know what the bloody hell I'm saying."

"There's a place in hell for bastards like you!" She shouted.

"Vladislav, take off your trousers. Make this whore shut up will you?"

"Gladly," another raider smirked.

The trio weren't going to watch this any longer, the mercenaries looked at Tariq waiting to give them the order to fire. Instead the Ranger just stepped out of hiding, "Eat lead you bastards!" He fired his automatic, mowing down at least five or six of them. Initiating a firefight.

Eventually, the mercenaries joined in. Michail fired his AK and Sacha used his revolver, it wasn't entirely a hard fight. Nobody got injured, barely even a touch. The final raider cowered off like a little bitch who just signed up without training.

Michail checked his ammo, they all went through two or three entire clips. They still kept a steady supply though, about enough to survive the surface.

Sacha approached the young woman, offering his hand, "Hey, you alright?"

"Thank you," she simply responded yet not taking his hand. She looked at what was said to be her brother, who laid face flat on the bloodied floor. "I'm going to need a minute," she sobbed.

"Of course of course," he moved back to the others. Who reluctantly scavenged the corpses.

"Found a few revolver round for you, Sacha," said Michail holding some bullets, "Shotgun shell too. Is the girl fine?"

"She's just grieving. Give her a minute."

"Christ, poor kid."

"Well, that's that. Come on, Venice won't reach itself you know," said Tariq.

"Tariq, we're not leaving a girl out here on her own," said Michail, "She just lost her brother, at least let something turn for her."

A few brief seconds gave the Ranger time to think, he finally gave his decision, "Yeah she can come with us. As long as she isn't a liability."

"Sacha, you go talk to her. I'm gonna go search these bodies for more ammo," he ordered, "Can't be too careful with our resources am I right?"

He went back towards the young woman, giving her some time before apologising, "I'm sorry for your loss. He deserved better."

"He did. I'm a horrible sister!" She cried, "Shouldn't have bloody taken this route! Should've gone with the blasted travel taxes!"

"Don't say that. You did what you thought was best for your family."

"And where did that take me?! I'm the last of them! I'll be long forgotten when God finally smiles on me and buries me six feet under!" She seemed to be well with her metaphors.

"Well, we're heading to Venice if you want to come. Do you?"

"That's probably the only thing I can do now, before I continue this meaningless existence."

Sacha knew family is always what mattered, it's what kept him going for so long. Two kids and a lovely wife. He'd understand what she was feeling if anything like this massacre happened to him.

"Hey now, just because your family's dead doesn't mean life's now meaningless. Who knows, you might meet a nice guy and start your own. Now come on, it's what Tariq said, Venice won't reach itself," he smiled.

She sighed, "Fine. Thank you again for the help. I'm Irina."

"Sacha. Bald guy over there's Michail, and the one in the balaclava is Tariq."

"Hey, we're moving out now, Sacha!" The Ranger called, "Is she on board?!"

"Yeah, she is!" He called back before they all switched tunnels straight towards Venice. Let's just hope she wasn't going to go against Tariq's wishes and become a liability.

* * *

"You sure you don't want to use a revolver?" Michail asked, "With someone like you standing against a single nosalis without a weapon... no you wouldn't survive at all. Unless you were an experienced wrestler."

"No thanks..." Irina softly said.

"So, Irina was it? What's your story? Why exactly were you on that trolley?" Tariq questioned.

"Me and- me and my brother... I- I'm sorry I can't talk about this right now," she stuttered, almost beginning to sob.

"Sorry for your loss again," Sacha apologised.

"It-it's fine. It's just nice to know not everybody in these godforsaken tunnels aren't devil spawns like those bastards back there. Bloody pieces of..."

"You don't have to continue, you don't have to talk either if you don't want to."

"I mean I might as well since your my only company," she nervously chuckled just as a couple tears streamed down her face. They all felt bad for her, live a few years in a post apocalyptic world you're bound to lose almost everything and everyone you loved, live long enough to pass it it doesn't matter if your heart beats or if your brain still functioned, you're already dead without something to keep you going.

"If you don't mind me asking, what business do- or did have in Venice?"

"I... I'm a fisherman," she stated.

"You don't look the fishing type."

"It's what we took after our parents. I used to take Oleg... my brother on this job. We used to fish together... his laugh when a live fish bit my nose..." As much as she didn't want to talk about it, she did. It was almost as if she was lost. Broken.

Nobody else said anything as she continued to mumble dead memories, bloodied guilt streamed down her eyes each time she uttered a word.

More eternal hours passed, until they eventually came across a small railcar conveniently fit for four.

"You think it'll work?" Michail asked observing the whole thing.

Sacha fiddled with the controls, accidentally causing it to move an inch. "She's got to be at least a few years old, maybe many months, whatever it was time's beaten her but she'll be up and running in no time, that's unless the petrol tanks or a fault in the engineering incinerates everything within a ten metre radius."

"How the hell do you know all this?" Tariq asked.

"I was a constructions worker before the war remember? Had a degree in physics and engineering too, this is pretty simple for someone like me."

"You know you'd be a great worker at Polis, right?"

"That's what they all say. I'm still going to stick with the mercenary life for now," he chuckled, "Michail, let me see those controls."

"Be my guest," he replied taking a step back.

The old construction worker went onto the driver's seat, yanked off a panel and analysed the wiring as well as other parts, "Ak-tak-tak-tak-tak, wiring seems to be in working order, bit withered though but still functional. Ah these parts are useless anyway who cares. Damn, lighting doesn't seem to be that functional, if we ever come across spiders we'll have to use our personal lights. Well we have no use in reversing for now, we can only go forward with these things." He pushed down on the pedal, observing the speed, "Michail, how long do you reckon it would take to get to Venice by foot?"

"No clue, haven't been down this line at all since... well I haven't been down this line since '02. Christ has it really been that long?"

"Four more hours by foot," Irina muttered.

"Well, if we go at max speed with this - which I believe is around seven miles per hour with this state - we should be there by... umm... oh at least an hour from now. Four times faster," he finished.

"Glad I hired you two," Tariq praised, "Come on, Ven-"

"Yeah yeah yeah, Venice won't reach itself. We heard you the first time!" The ex-trooper exclaimed.

"It'll be flooded ahead," the young woman said softly, "There's an outpost ahead though... we can take a raft from there."

"Well, at least we'll get to Polis quicker," said Tariq.

"I still need a bit of time to make sure we don't get blown to pieces halfway to Venice. Someone'll have to scout ahead, can't help if we suddenly fall into a pit of radioactive goo."

"Right, Michail, scout ahead. And take Irina with you, she knows the tunnel better than any of us."

"You sure? I'm not sure with her current condition-"

"She can still help though. Trust me, I don't want this either but it's either walk blindly through a living horror story or walk through a living horror story with a guide to make sure you don't end up like Georgie from that old book, IT."

"She still needs to process her loss, though!"

"I will go," Irina finally stated, unusually changing her mood from a mourning girl to someone tired of this piss. "I've been through here plenty of times, I know almost every single inch of this place."

"Well then, her mind's made up. Guess she's coming with you, Michail."

The old soldier sighed, "Fine. But if she gets her arse handed to her I'm not getting the blame. Come on, Irina. And take this," he handed her an Ashot handgun, which she didn't decline this time. Christ, she must've gotten over her grieving quickly. Or maybe this was just the start of a vengeful being that would be destined to threaten the catacombs.


End file.
